


don't you let it (kill me)

by lamprophony



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Angst, Coda, Episode: s01e22 Devil's Trap, Forced Dean Winchester/John Winchester, Forced Incest, Hurt No Comfort, M/M, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot, Possessed John Winchester
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-11-21
Updated: 2019-11-21
Packaged: 2021-02-18 08:08:18
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,291
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21507898
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/lamprophony/pseuds/lamprophony
Summary: Alternative ending for 1x22, Devil's Trap.Yellow eyes assaults Dean in John's body. Sam watches.
Relationships: Azazel/Dean Winchester, Dean Winchester/John Winchester
Comments: 12
Kudos: 139





	don't you let it (kill me)

**Author's Note:**

> So I was rewatching the series and couldn't find much Yellow-eyes-Possessing-John/Dean porn - not entirely surprising given how old this episode is, half the stuff is still on lj - so I decided to write it myself. Be the change! (I'm so sorry. Please heed the warnings.)

Sam struggled against the invisible pressure of the demon pushing him into the wall, watching helplessly as blood slowly trickled out of Dean's mouth. Yellow-eyes was grinning, John's face horribly twisted in the flickering light of the cabin. 

"Dad, don't you let it kill me," Dean said, blood pouring out of demonically-opened wounds on his chest. "Dad, please," Dean whispered. 

"Don't worry, son," Yellow-eyes said. Sam felt his flesh crawl at the words, tone a perverted mockery of a father's concern. "I'm not gonna kill you." Invisible power dragged Dean down from the wall as if a fishhook was pulling him by his feet towards the center of the room. Dean's head slammed painfully on the floor as he went, hands scrabbling uselessly for purchase. 

Sam tore his eyes away from the scene to stare at the colt lying almost within reach. It was so close… if he could just -- 

As if it could hear Sam's thoughts, the yellow-eyed demon snapped his head around to look at Sam. "Oh, you don’t need to worry about that, Sammy-boy," it said. It extended John's hand and the colt flew across the air and into its grasp. "Pay attention, I don't want you to miss anything." The demon turned back to Dean and crouched down. It reached out and lovingly dragged the barrel of the gun down Dean's battered face. Sam made a wordless noise of horror, terrified of what it might do to his brother, but the demon just chuffed a quiet laugh and tossed the gun carelessly into the opposite corner of the room. 

The demon's hands wandered down Dean's chest to rip open his shirt and reveal the bloody mess his chest had become. It whistled softly. "You're not doing too well now, are you Dean?" it said, dragging its fingers across the jagged open wounds and rubbing the blood through its fingers. Dean groaned in pain, his face a mix of agony and dark hatred. 

"Fuck you," Dean said. 

"Fucking get your hands off him," Sam growled, lurching forward so hard sharp pain laced through both of his shoulders. But his arms remained in place as if iron bars strapped him to the wall. His gaze was fixed on the demon, watching its hands - John's hands, Dad's hands, something in the back of his mind screamed frantically - as they continued on their path down Dean's body. 

The demon popped open the button of Dean's jeans. Sam felt as though time had slowed down, stopped, the blood freezing in his veins and his vision shrinking down to that small window, John's hands pulling down Dean's zipper and yanking his jeans down to his knees. 

Dean jerked, mouth forming in a shocked o of surprise and confusion. "What the fuck," he yelled, clearly trying to struggle but held immobile by invisible hands. The demon reached out and palmed Dean's dick through his jeans and Dean suddenly froze, unnaturally still for a moment. Yellow-eyes smiled down at Dean, almost fondly, and then palmed his dick through his boxers. Dean surged again, heels digging into the floor to propel him away, but he was trapped. The demon reached down and pulled his boxers down his hips, exposing Dean's soft cock to the cold air. 

Sam felt dawning horror as he realized what was about to happen. "What - no, you can't -- "

"Now, Sammy, I need you to pay attention," Yellow-eyes said. It reached down and grasped Dean's soft dick, gently, stroking it and rubbing its thumb over the head. Dean moaned as if in agony, desperately trying to twist his body away. "I can do whatever I want. But let's focus on what's important - this is your fault, buddy-boy. If you'd just listened, we wouldn't have to do this." 

"You don't have to do this," Sam said desperately. "Please, just stop. Please. You want me, not Dean."

"You want me, not Dean," the demon repeated mockingly. "You're pathetic. I'm going to destroy your family, Sam. You'll have nothing left but hell." It stroked Dean again, this time leaning over to look in his face in the same motion. It laughed cruelly, twisting its hand on Dean's dick. Dean's eyes snapped shut as he screwed up his face and turned it away from what was happening, childish, as if he couldn't see, everything would stop. 

"You don't like this, Dean?" it said. "Come on, son. Open your eyes. Look at what your Daddy is doing to you."

Dean opened his eyes and looked at the demon as if transfixed. Tear tracks ran down his face, white skin made visible through blood and dirt. "Dad," he croaked. "Dad, please."

"Yeah, that’s right," the demon crooned, John's face splitting into another hideous smile. John's hands reached out and touched Dean's face, gently wiping the tears away. "You're so sweet when you beg, Dean. Go ahead. Your dad's not gonna save you." Dean's breath hitched, helpless, as John's thumb pushed into his mouth, pressing down against his lower lip.

In a split second, the air changed. John's hand pulled away from Dean's face as if burned, John's body flung away from Dean's. Sam felt the invisible pressure on his body give way and he fell to the floor, knees buckling on impact. He got to his feet and stepped forward, instinct telling him to put himself between Dean's half-naked body and his father. But when he looked up he didn't see the demon, he saw John. John's face was twisted in horror, tears spilling from his eyes. 

"Dad!" Sam said, relief in his voice. Dean seemed to realize he could move at the same time and struggled to his knees, weak and unable to stand with his jeans twisted around his ankles. 

"The colt," John croaked. He turned to the far corner where Yellow-eyes had carelessly tossed the gun. "The colt Sam, you have to - " 

Sam was already moving, shoving past Dean and his father. He reached out and his fingers just barely brushed over the handle of the gun before he felt himself being pulled back again, slammed into another wall. He looked up and immediately knew John was gone. Bright yellow eyes gleamed out of John's face. 

"Ah ah ah," the demon clicked its tongue regretfully. "I guess dear old Dad had some fight left in him after all." It flicked a hand, freezing Dean on his knees. "Not enough. But commendable, don't you think Dean?" It reached forward and stroked a hand through Dean's short, dirty hair. Dean tried to jerk his head away but was held fast, John's fingers twisted in the hair on the crown of his head. The demon shoved Dean away and pushed his head down, pressing him face-down into the hard floor. The demon let go of Dean's hair but Dean remained in place, seemingly held down by the same force that pressed Sam helplessly into the wall.

"Stop," Sam said. His voice trembled, filled with rage and a hatred he'd never felt before. "Stop it."

Dean was bent over, ass in the air. The open wounds on his naked chest rubbed painfully against the floor and his face was turned towards Sam. Sam could see his eyes, open but strangely blank, blood still fresh and dripping on his lips. His hands were crossed over at the small of his back, but Sam couldn't remember when that had happened. Sam's breath was coming fast, panicky, as he watched Yellow-eyes kneel behind Dean and run its hands over the pale skin of his ass. The image of his Dad bending Dean over and touching him so intimately, the sense of wrongness going bone-deep, the feeling of something sacred being destroyed - 

"Don't look, Sammy," Dean said. 

Sam wanted to close his eyes but he couldn't look away. The demon was looking at him now, yellow eyes bright in his father's familiar face. Slowly, without looking away, the demon put two of its fingers in its mouth and sucked, pulling them out with a faint pop. "Don't worry, Sammy," it said, touching the fingers to Dean's hole. "I'll be gentle. Just like Daddy would be, eh Dean?" It twisted its fingers in Dean's ass, opening him up. Dean barely moved, eyes opened and turned towards Sam. 

"Please, Sam," he said again. "Don't look." 

The demon took its time, pressing into Dean and stretching him open. It murmured to Dean in John's low, gruff voice. "Oh Dean, everyone is watching," it said, pushing in a third finger. "Sam and your Daddy too. Watching his son take it up the ass. You think he'll ever be able to look you in the eye again?" Dean let out a choked sob, from what the demon was doing or the words Sam couldn't tell. 

It pulled out and lined up John's cock. The feeling seemed to stir up some last vestiges of resistance in Dean and he made one last attempt to escape, struggling feebly. "God please, no," Dean whispered. "Please, please. Please stop."

Yellow-eyes shoved his hips forward, John's cock pushing into Dean. Dean sobbed, agony twisting up his face. Yellow-eyes pushed until it was balls deep and then paused as if savoring the moment. "You're so tight, son," it said in John's voice. It pulled out almost completely, John's dick dragging along the sides of Dean's hole. "Practically virginal, but we both know that can't be the case." It chuckled softly and began to thrust in earnest. Dean was sobbing openly, tears running down his face and small broken sounds escaping from his throat. 

"You're nothing," John's voice was low and soft as he fucked Dean. "Maybe after I'm done with your sorry ass I'll take a turn on Sam. Or maybe I'll possess Sam and have him take a turn on you, have your little brother fuck you up the ass. Whole family gets a go! How do you like the sound of that?" It turned to smile at Sam. "Any thoughts, Sammy?"

Sam looked into his Dad's face, blood like ice in his veins. "I'll fucking kill you," he promised. 

"Don't get mad at me when it's your fault, Sam," his dad told him. "If you weren't such a fuckup. If you'd just followed me, I wouldn't have had to do this to your brother." It punctuated this statement with another thrust of John's hips into Dean's body. "You could have had Dean all to yourself in hell. But of course we had to do this the hard way." It yanked Dean's head back by his hair and groaned as it fucked him harder. "After this, when your pathetic family is in fucking splinters, you'll have no one to blame but yourself."

Sam couldn't look anymore. Bile was rising in his mouth and his stomach was turning in disgust. He finally looked away, to the corner where the colt still lay, useless. It didn't help; he could still hear, flesh slapping flesh, grunts and whimpers of pain wrenched from Dean's bloody lips, John's crooning tone contrasting horribly with the poisonous words spilling out of his mouth.

After what felt like eons, it was over. Yellow-eyes made one last thrust and grunted, come spilling into Dean's body. It pulled out and stood up, not bothering to hitch up John's pants, letting his cock swing free. 

Dean seemed to be released from his invisible bonds and his body tipped to the side so he was curled in the fetal position away from Sam, his hands automatically moving to cover his face. Sam saw the red scratches on his back and for a split second saw Dean's swollen hole, painfully red with come dripping down his legs. He looked up to see the demon smiling at him. John never smiled like that. 

Sam felt as though he was in a dream. He felt himself pull away from the wall, landing on his feet neatly this time. He raised his hand, palm up, in the direction of the Yellow-eyed demon in his father's body. "Get out," he said. 

The demon's face twisted, a flicker of surprise crossing his face. "But we're just getting started," it drawled. 

"Get out," Sam said again. He could feel the blood pumping through his body, thrumming with rage and hatred. The demon twitched back again, smiled.

"You have so much power. If only you would let me show you, Sammy," it said. 

The sound of a gunshot cracked through the air. John's body twisted and fell to the ground as the bullet hit his thigh. Dean was in the corner, half-naked and hunched over, the colt pointed at his dad and smoking in his hand. "He fucking said get out," Dean snarled. Electricity crackled from the point of the bullet all through John's body and black smoke poured out of his mouth, sinking into the floorboards.

Silence permeated the room, broken only by Dean's short, rasping breaths. "Dean?" Sam asked, immediately moving to kneel next to his brother. Dean let the colt drop from numb hands and began pulling weakly at his jeans, still tangled around his ankles. Sam reached out to help but Dean shoved his hand away.

"Go check on Dad," Dean said. He didn't look at Sam's face.

"He's fine -" Sam started.

"Please, Sammy," Dean said. "Go make sure Dad's okay."

"He's okay, Dean," Sam said, but he knew was lying. Sam turned to where John lay. John was gasping but alive, one hand covering the wound in his thigh. He would live. Sam reached out but stopped short of touching him, repulsion at the very thought trickling down his spine. John lifted his head and looked at Sam.

"He's okay, Dean," Sam said, but he knew was lying. The look in John's eyes mirrored Dean's, blank and eerie. Broken.


End file.
